


Wasted years - One shot

by VexedBeverage



Category: Hat Films - Fandom, Hatfilms, The Yogscast
Genre: M/M, smornby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 13:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4789694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VexedBeverage/pseuds/VexedBeverage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smith has had a thing for Ross for a LONG time</p><p>SFW except a bit of swearing</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wasted years - One shot

Christopher Trott prided himself on his perceptive abilities, it had done him well in the last twenty odd years and he wasn’t about to start doubting himself just because Ross was being a lying bastard about his feelings for a certain other member of their newly formed business.

Trott had been amused and maybe a little jealous at first about how fast the other two had been able to shift into easy banter and dirty jokes from the first time they had all gamed together, audio cracking and cutting out as they practically screamed down cheap headsets at each other. It had taken Trott much longer to become friends with both of them. He had known of Smith since primary school but a friendship never really formed until they found themselves in the same form at college and, with Ross it had taken almost a full term at Uni until the teacher had assigned them a project together. 

The first indication that something could possibly be on the cards for his friends was, quite predictably, Smith and his inability to filter his inner thoughts and feelings. 

**********

Trott and Smith were both home for the Easter holidays and were hanging out in Trott's moderately and unusually tidy bedroom, kicking around ideas for a live action sketch they wanted to do next half term when Smith would be coming to Portsmouth to visit the other two at their university. 

"That is ridiculous!" Trott shot at Smith who was lounging on his stomach across the bed, his feet dangling over the edge. 

"Aww, come on Trott," The other man whined. "It'll be hilarious."

Trott spun in his chair, the wheels squeaking slightly against the wooden floor. "Where are you even gonna get a bag of that size?"

Smith smirked at the other man and raised an eyebrow. "You aren’t that big mate."

Trott huffed. "Not what your mom said last night sunshine." 

Smith barked a laugh, his smirk growing into a full blown grin. "What time did Ross say he would be on?" He asked changing the subject. 

"Said he had some family thing until six." Trott answered, spinning to look at his computer screen, jostling the mouse to get it out of sleep mode. "Go get me a drink and I'll set up the webcam." 

Smith rolled to the side so he could place his feet on the floor. "It's your fucking house, get your own drink you lazy bastard." 

Trott didn’t take his attention from the screen in front of him as he replied. "If you go my mom will probably offer you snacks." It was a sneaky move but it worked, Smith strode out of the room and Trott could follow his progress with his ears as he trudged down the stairs and into the kitchen. 

Just searching for and finally locating the webcam took enough time that as Trott was plugging it into the back of the computer Smith returned, a tray filled with both drinks and an assortment of snacks balanced on one hand as he shut the bedroom door behind him. Rather than voicing his 'I told you so' Trott merely raised his eyebrows at Smith as he placed the tray down on the desk and pulled up a chair next to his friend. 

A skype box popped up on screen with a message as Trott was trying to find the right driver online for the webcam, a simple and offensive one line greeting from their dark haired friend. 'Alright, you pricks!' This was quickly followed by the ringing sound of an incoming video call.

Trott sat back in his chair and clicked the accept button, the window opened and Ross appeared on screen, sitting at his own desk in his house, flipping them both the bird. 

Their own feed wasn’t working yet, the outgoing box showing nothing but black and no sound being picked up by the cameras build in microphone. It was probably just as well to be fair, Smiths sharp intake of breath that sounded suspiciously like a 'wow' and widening of his eyes was something he didn’t really want Ross seeing. 

Trott did notice though, and he looked from Smith sitting next to him to Ross on the screen and back again with a gleeful grin. Quickly he typed out a response to Ross to let him know that their feed was being 'a massive drippy cock' before turning his attention to the man sitting next to him. "See something you like Smith?" Trott teased, his eyebrows wiggling in suggestion. 

Smith’s cheeks reddened slightly as he narrowed his eyebrows at Trott before staring at the feed of Ross again, Trott watched him shrug to himself and he just KNEW what was going to come out of Smiths mouth was something he didn’t want to hear. "What can I say?" Smith replied, trying a little too hard to sound nonchalant. "You never mentioned he was so tasty." 

Trott snorted a laugh. "I would make a joke about eating but I don’t fancy dry heaving for the next week." 

**********

Smith's leg bounced up and down, the pace increasing the nearer he got to his destination, a nervous habit that he wasn’t even conscious of until he leant his head upon the window of the train and bumped his shoulder against the glass with the intensity of his fidgeting. 

The intercom on the train burst into static before a voice announced the next stop was his destination and their arrival would be in the next ten minutes. 

Smith shifted in his seat, pulling his large, army style backpack onto his lap to rummage inside for what must have been the fiftieth time that afternoon, he pulled the drawstring top open and reached inside, pulling out a white and green plastic carrier bag. 

With more mental effort than was probably normal Smith shook his head to try and clear it, he shoved the carrier into the backpack again and placed it on the floor where he wouldn’t be tempted to check it again. 

The bouncing returned as he checked his watch, two minutes had passed since the announcement, he rolled his eyes, at himself or the slow passing of time, he wasn’t sure. 

His fingernails were already bitten short but still he found himself chewing on the corner of his thumb whilst trying desperately to not think about what it was going to be like meeting Ross for the first time. 

He could practically feel the adrenaline rushing through his over caffeinated veins and he shot a dirty look to the two empty cans of Red Bull and crumpled Starbucks cup protruding from the seat pocket in front of him.

This was stupid, why was he so nervous and hyped up? This was Ross, Ross was his friend, and, more recently, colleague.

Questions ran rampant through his brain, questions that were creepy and inappropriate, musing about how the other man smelled, if the hoodies he seemed to live in were as soft as they looked, what it would feel like to run his fingers through his hair. An exasperated sigh escaped him as he rubbed at the stubble on his face, he needed to stop thinking. 

**********

Trott tried to hide his smirk as he pulled away from the train station where he had picked up an obviously nervous Smith. 

He was doing that thing with his leg that Trott hated, the whole car shook with its intensity but today it didn’t irritate him, today it amused him no end. He had to pass his snort of laughter off as a cough when Smith caught himself in the act and physically pushed his own leg down to keep it still. 

"Alright there Sunshine?" Trott asked, turning his head for a second to address the other man. 

Smith seemed to jump at the sound, his head whipping around to look at his friend, Trott watched, biting his lip to try and control his facial features as Smith wiped his palms over his denim clad thighs. "Yeah, fine mate." 

They drove in more silence for a while, the ride smooth as Trott navigated the various turns and roundabouts with obvious familiarity. "Did you bring the pump for the airbed?" Trott queried to break through the quiet. 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Smith nod. "Yeah, didn’t fancy trying to blow it up manually." 

The urge to mutter something about blowing something else was on the very tip of his tongue but he managed to restrain himself and instead lapsed into silence again. 

"You erm..." Smith paused. Stuttering was something that Trott hadn't heard the other man do in years, Alex Smith was nothing if not confident and it was a very rare thing to see him being so nervous about something, he wasn’t even this bad when they got their exam results, Trott had been practically having a breakdown, talking the other man’s ear off about how if they didn’t get into Uni then it wasn’t the end of the world and they had options, trying to convince himself more than anything. "Did you see Ross before coming to get me?" 

Pushing his sunglasses up his nose where they had slipped down a little Trott wet his lips before answering. "Nah, we hung out last night though, he wanted to blast through his coursework so we have time to do all the recording and stuff whilst you're here." 

"Yeah, cool." 

Trott continued, trying to fill the silence. "He probably stayed up after I went to bed and did an all-nighter to get it done." 

"Does he do that often?" Smith queried, his tone a little too casual sounding to be genuine. 

Trott huffed a laugh through his nose. "He does his best work at four in the morning, I have no idea how the hell he manages it, he usually finishes in this weird daze that flits between hyperactive madness and comatose around sunrise before he passes out for half the day."

"Is he gonna be okay today then?" Again with the casual tone that made Trott press his lips together hard to prevent laughter bubbling out. 

"Yeah he'll be fine, he text me whilst I was waiting for you, said he would have some food ready when we get there." Trott supplied. 

"He's cooking?" Smith asked, but before waiting for an answer another question shot from him. “What he making?" Then another. "Is he any good?" 

Trott rolled his eyes behind his sun glasses, glad he had them to cover the gesture. "Yes, homemade pizza and yes." 

"Homemade?" 

Trott nodded absentmindedly as he pulled away from the traffic lights. "Yeah, he has this super-secret dough and sauce recipe from some Italian relative or something." Before he could think about the words forming they were out and he knew he was in for it. "Best thing I have ever had in my mouth mate." 

It seemed to Trott that the almost infinite possibilities Smith had in answer to that comment shorted out the other man’s brain as all he was greeted with when he looked over was a wide eyed, gaping mouthed stare. 

*********

Smith’s stomach was doing flips as he followed Trott into the house, the smell of pizza that would usually have him sniffing in pleasure now making him feel a little nauseous. 

They found Ross in the kitchen, sitting at the dining room table, chair tilted back on two legs as he flipped through a text book. “I thought you finished your work last night?” Trott voiced. Ross glanced up and offered his friends a beaming smile. 

“I did.” Ross answered throwing the book to the table and bringing his chair to rest properly on the floor with a clatter of wood on tile before standing. “How was the train?” Ross asked as he reached Smith and enveloped the taller man in a hug that Smith really wasn’t expecting. 

It lasted only a second, before Smith could really register what was happening, it was over, Ross moving back away to go check on the Pizza in the oven. A nudge to the ribs from Trott snapped him out of the stupor. “Er, yeah… it was alright, didn’t have to sit next to anyone so that was a bonus.” 

**********

For Smith, that first weekend was a confusing mix of relief and torture. He got through it, being close to Ross, being able to see his face as he cracked up and laughed at something Smith or Trott said was amazing but being so close also made the feelings he held for the other man to go wild. 

Smith had to make a conscious effort to tone down the flirting in case Ross was to reciprocate in jest and Smith took it seriously. 

He could not bring himself to talk to the other man about his attraction, too scared it would ruin everything. 

*********

More weekends followed the first, taking it in turns to travel to each other when they could to record as much as possible. 

Years passed, Smiths feelings for his friend still present but now under control. 

*********

Trott had watched over the years as Smith tried to get himself over Ross, he offered what little comfort he could to his friend who would come home at the crack of dawn, hungover and in yesterday’s clothes almost every Saturday morning having retuned from another one night stand, his neck discoloured with love bites. 

He had watched Ross every time it happened, a look of hurt thinly hidden behind his blue eyes when Smith would recount his wild nights to his friends. 

Ross wasn’t any better really, at least Smith had the decency to come home alone, Ross would sometimes bring girls back to the house and then beg Trott to get them to leave in the morning so he wouldn’t have to do it. 

**********

The door banged open against the wall as Trott stormed into Ross’ bedroom. 

Ross’ head snapped up from looking at his phone. “What the fuck mate?!” 

Trott stood at the foot of the bed, his arms crossed and a stern look marring his features as he eyed the man sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard. “I have had it with both of you.” 

A look of confusion crossed the dark haired man’s face. “What?” 

Trott let out an angry huff of breath through his nose. “You and Smith.” 

Ross placed his phone down on the bed and leant forward. “Me and Smith?” He questioned, not understanding. 

Trott’s lips thinned as he pressed them together in annoyance. “Yes Ross, you and Smith… you know, our best friend Smith who has been in-fucking-love with you for years, Smith who is upstairs right now back on a fucking dating website trying to find a fucking Ross Hornby doppelganger because he thinks there is no chance that you like him back.” 

Ross' face went red as Trott talked. “You finished?” Ross asked, his voice low and dangerous. Trott shot him an unimpressed look but didn’t comment. Rolling his eyes, Ross picked up his phone again and started scrolling through, ignoring the other man. 

Trott stared daggers at the dark haired man. How could he be so thick? Trott knew that it wasn’t a one way thing with Smith, Ross had confessed it himself after much coaxing and drink almost a year ago. “You’re just going to sit there on your phone?” Trott huffed but didn’t get an answer. Throwing his hands in the air he let out a shout of anger. “You know what? Fine!” He exploded, turning and walking to the door. “The next time Smith comes home stinking of some other guys aftershave you can deal with it yourself, I am not being a fucking agony aunt to you pricks anymore.” With a slam, Trott was gone. 

Ross strained to listen as he heard him stomping around the house before the front door slammed so hard that it shook the pictures on the wall. 

**********

Ross scrubbed at his face as he read the text from Trott letting him know that he wasn’t coming back until the following day, a desperate ‘please sort your shit out before I get back, for me?’ followed the first message, Ross sighed at the screen. 

Trott was everything you could want in a friend and Ross hated pissing the other man off but how the hell could he confess to Smith what he felt? It was too late now, they had been friends too long and had a business together, if it didn’t work out then what would happen? Smith had given up a promising career to move to Bristol with the other two and give this YouTube thing a shot. 

Now they had a big enough audience and enough money coming in to support them full time, they were getting lots of recognition in the industry with their trailers and collaborating with the biggest YouTube group in the country. Now was not the time to be risking their friendship and channel on the off chance that it would work between him and Smith. 

 

**********

Smith was just pulling his t shirt over his head when there was a soft knock at this bedroom door. “Come in.” He called as he threw his wet towel into his laundry basket then reached for his watch to secure it back on his wrist. 

Ross poked his head round the door. “Can I talk to you?” 

Smith gestured to the empty room to indicate he should come in, Ross shut the door gently behind himself and watched as Smith sat down on the end of his bed. Ross reached out and dragged the chair from by the desk to sit in front of Smith. 

"What did you want to talk about mate?" Smith asked looking up at Ross who for once, due to the chair he sat on, was taller than Smith by a couple of inches. 

Ross leant forward to rest his elbows on his knees and bury his face in his hands. “Did Trott speak to you before he left?” Ross peered through his fingers at Smith who blushed a deep pink. 

“Yeah, he uhh…” Smith cleared his throat trying to get it to sound less like a squeak. “…He said some stuff, then said he was speaking to you but then I heard the door slam and he text me a while later saying he had gone to his moms for the night.” 

Smith couldn’t tear his eyes away from the other man who finally took his hands away from his face with a sigh, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips in an unconscious gesture that always made Smith’s head spin. “He said he was done with us.” 

Smith raised his eyebrows in question and surprise. “With Hatfilms?” 

Ross sagged back into the chair and gestured to himself and Smith in turn. “With us, you and me.” 

Smith leant back on an outstretched arm. “I don’t get what you mean mate.” 

Ross met Smith’s eyes and gave him a look that clearly conveyed how thick Smith was being. “This fucking…” A pause. “…Whatever it is between us.” 

Smith sat forwards again to convey his point but Ross had turned his head to stare at nothing. “We are friends, best friends… that’s it.” 

Ross shifted on the chair again, his back no longer touching the backrest as he leant towards Smith, elbows on knees. “Is it?” He whispered. 

Smith tiled his head to look into Ross’ impossibly blue eyes, four of five inches of air separating their faces. 

Their knees bumped as they sat, transfixed with each other. Their breathing audible in the space, Smith could feel the shaky puffs of air coming from Ross’ nose washing over his forehead. 

Smith couldn’t do anything to stop his eyes flicking down towards the dark haired man’s lips as Ross’ tongue darted out of his mouth to wet them, Smith unconsciously copied him, his own tongue swiping across his bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. Smith’s heart fluttering in hope when Ross followed the movement with a flick of his own eyes. 

The chair scraped on the floor as Ross practically leapt forwards, one hand buried in Smith’s hair and one flat against his chest as he forced him back on the bed, lips connecting with matching moans of pleasure.

It was forceful and needy, filled with years of wanting and a desperate aggression that had Smith forgetting his own name. 

 

Ross pulled away, stumbling backward off the bed until his back connected with the wall. 

Smith sat up, hair a rumpled mess from Ross’ rough handling. Ross wouldn’t meet his eyes again. “I shouldn’t have done that Smith.” Ross spoke, his voice gravely. 

Smith stood on wobbly legs. “Why?” 

The dark haired man let out a long breath through his nose and leant his head back against the wall. “Because everything else in my life is going pretty fucking well right now and I don’t want to fuck anything up.” 

Smith moved forwards, closing the distance between them again. Smith’s right hand came up to hook behind Ross’ head, his own neck bending down to rest their foreheads against each other. Ross didn’t protest, bringing both of his hands up to rest on Smith’s hips, thumbs skimming skin as he moved them back and forth under the other man’s shirt. “And what if this isn’t a mistake?” Smith smiled at him. 

The corner of Ross’ lips lifted in a smile. “I guess it doesn’t matter, we can’t exactly go back and pretend this didn’t happen can we?” 

The question was obviously rhetorical but Smith answered anyway. “Not a fucking chance mate.” 

Ross nodded against him and lifted his head so he could look into his eyes. “I think we might owe Trott an apology.” 

Smith laughed. “I think we might owe him a bit more than that.” He breathed out, closing the small gap that separated him from Ross.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know your thoughts on this :)


End file.
